Slip'n Strip
by suspensegirl
Summary: Post 3x06, minor/hints of 3x07 spoilers. They were supposedly ok--but they weren't. He had supposedly forgiven her--but he couldn't trust her. She was supposedly being herself--yet overly cautious constantly. And now she was uninvited. PLAN B.
1. Dealing with Deception

A/N: Okay, so…as always, I shouldn't be starting another multi-chaptered fic, but it's just another 3-part, so I think it's justified. I'm like 99.99999% sure that 3x07 is going to turn out lovely for our precious CB, but you know…that in between time of "not knowing" just kills me…*has been having GG/CB nightmares all week* *gulp* And you know what's particularly ridiculous about this? The little snippet of angst we got in 3x06 isn't even HALF as bad as two seconds out of an angsty episode was last season. *sighs and shakes head at self* Ah well, it'll help me get through the next couple days before we all heal over. Hehe. And reviews don't hurt either. ;p I _did_ see both the regular promo and the extended promo, and the CBS webclip, but…*sigh* I got the idea from just seeing the original promo so that's basically all I'm taking this fic from, though there may be hints from the other two sources, just 'cause I like to make my fics as realistic as possible. ;p

**Synopsis: This story begins post 3x06, CB are **_**supposedly**_** okay, but when Blair inquires about the club opening…Chuck shuts her down. *gasp* ONWARD! ;) **

(*btw, I'm quite sure the show will come up with something much more interesting and less dramatic than _I _come up with: you've been forewarned ;p)

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**Ch.1—Dealing with Deception**

_"We're okay."_

_"We're okay?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_He sighs. "I've had three days to think it over, Blair. I'm sure."_

_She was unconvinced, but so obviously didn't want to make matters worse. "Okay," she nods._

_"We're okay," he repeats and she forces a smile. He places each of his hands on one of her shoulders and peers intently into her deep brown eyes. "I mean it."_

_She smiles wider, making it look more real this time. He mirrors her action then kisses her on the forehead and walks past her._

_He has a meeting to attend to._

They were so _not_ okay. It had been a week since he had told her, a week since she had tried to make herself believe it, and a week of acting like the perfect girlfriend—trying to let the subject drop. But he couldn't have missed her act. If he had he would have said something by now, would've stopped her, _made_ her believe how much he had forgiven her and that the past was in the past. That just like when they had said their _I love yous_ and decided to forget all the hurt and pain they had caused each other before, he had decided to forget the issue and forgive her.

But he hadn't.

He so obviously was holding it against her. But only on the deep inner workings of Chuck Bass. On the outside he had forgiven her, and on the outside she had accepted it.

She _had_ called him later that morning following just like she had told him she would, but the conversation was _so_ awkward and she felt _so_ guilty throughout. It wasn't even that long, but it seemed to go on _forever_ (and there was _so_ much silence). She hadn't contacted him after that, didn't know what she would do with herself if she did, what she would say. Then, _he_ had called _her_, had arranged a short lunch after her first class of the day, three days later, and told her he had forgiven her. She took it for what it was. She didn't want to fight with him anymore, and he didn't want it to look like they were doomed to fail from the beginning. They both still loved each other so much, but for the moment—_on the inside at least_—it was not enough.

"You're with _girls_," she gaped at the scene before her. Serena had told him he was either at Victrola or a neighboring club, apparently he had visited both. The burlesque club he now was stationed at had scantily dressed dancers all over the place, and five of them were practically sitting on his lap. Maybe he was indirectly fighting with her, but she didn't think he'd go to this level to mess with her.

Chuck rolled his eyes to the comment and stood to his feet, walking towards her, and apologizing to the 'sluts' now behind him with his eyes and traditional smirk. Blair looked at him expectantly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You found out about the opening."

She pursed her lips.

"Through Serena I'm guessing?"

She remained silent.

"Well, I should have known I couldn't trust her to keep _one_ thing from you," he muttered.

"I wanted to help!"

"Well I didn't _need_ your help, and I didn't want it."

She narrowed her eyes but then focused back onto the previous topic. "Don't blame Serena," she sighed, "I was in the room when you called."

He scoffed. "So, she lied to me."

Her eyebrows squiggled into a furious, hurtful expression.

"You must be rubbing off on her," he took a sip of his scotch and kept his eyes set on anything but Blair's pained face. For the first time in ten days they weren't being fake with one another, and it hurt worse than she thought it would—and he was more furious than he thought he was going to be. "But don't worry, I won't blame Serena. This one is all yours."

She fumed, swallowing the tears back up in her eyes and making her gaze burn. "What are you doing with…_them_?" she tilted her head in the general direction of the dancers.

He scoffed, his eyes darting to hers, not even glancing towards where she was suggesting. "Nothing worse than what you did to me with your little white lie."

_What?_

She panicked, and it shone all over her face.

"No, I'm not cheating on you, and if you really think I _would_ do that, it just clearly emphasizes all the more your lack of trust and respect for me."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Well, just _look at them_!" she gestured behind him.

"I'm not _doing anything with them_," his voice grew dangerously low. "If you must know, I was looking for some entertainment for the club." He straightened his vest, watching as she ever so carefully analyzed his facial expressions and gestures.

_If I __**must**__ know? Shouldn't he __**want**__ to tell me?_

She sighed loudly, searching his eyes for _something_. "Are you _trying_ to irritate me?"

"No, but it is interesting to see how jealousy looks on you, _real_ jealousy I mean." His face relaxed, seeming to smooth into humor, but she wasn't fooled.

"So much for forgiving me," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed briefly in confusion. "Okay, I don't know where that came from, but just because I forgave you, doesn't mean I can trust you again."

She sighed. "I don't know what else you want from me, Chuck!" Her eyes widened desperately. "If you can't trust me then what are we doing?"

He shook his head, his anger building. Finally he looked her back in the eyes—_forced_ himself to—and waited for one more irritatingly long second to gather his final thoughts and try toning down his temper.

"I didn't want you at the hotel because if you can manipulate and lie to _me_, I sure don't want you anywhere near me for the most important night of my life." His gaze never broke from hers, pausing for a few empty seconds to see if she would open her mouth and speak. "I have a club to open, and you're no longer invited."

He waited a brief moment to take in just how severely her face had crumbled, how confused and unsure she seemed to be, and then he walked past her and out of the building. She hadn't even made a defense, a witty remark, or yelled at him. She could have thrown in his face all the awful things he'd done to her in the past, but she didn't. They had moved past all the pre-dating hurt. They hadn't—_he_ hadn't—moved past _this_ though. And for all she had done for him, for how much she _believed_ in him and really felt that she had helped him a little to get to where he was now…_she wasn't invited_ to his first self-managed club opening. His first _anything_ in the business world really.

_She wasn't invited. _

She wasn't _wanted_ or _needed_, because he _still couldn't trust her_.

And to make matters worse…he couldn't even really answer why they were still together.

She closed her eyes, and waited until she could hear the resounding pound of the door closing. Then she walked towards the exit and hurried back to her dorm.

……………………………………………………………………………………

The room was small…and _ugly_ (except for her few minor developments), and her bed was not nearly as comfortable as Chuck's.

_Sigh_. _Chuck's_ bed…_their_ bed…she hadn't been there in _so_ long.

"Blair—"

"What, Minion #2?!" she closed her eyes in frustration and draped a hand across her face. For the life of her she did not know why she had decided to bring these doting girls into her room today.

"There's a—"

She interrupted a different minion. "So help me, if this is about more mini-humans at our door asking for candy, I will personally go out there and show them the true definition of _witch on a broom_."

The girl gulped. "Uh…no, it's—it's a blonde—"

"Serena?" She perked up immediately on seeing her best friend's head peering through the small space in the door.

"B, can you—" she giggled, "Can you get them to let me in?" she motioned to the two other minions trying their best to prevent her from coming in.

Blair sighed and smiled, nodding. With one quick glare the girls scampered out. "Leave!" she commanded and they were gone. Serena squeezed her way past them and headed towards Blair.

"You know, there are kids right down the—"

"No, I do not have any candy for the mini-humans wandering the hallways of this disgusting building," she scoffed, popping a _Hershey's kiss_ into her mouth.

Serena flat out smiled and burst into a little more laughter at the sight of the brunette's deception. She shook her said. "Can I—?" she asked, gesturing to the candy between them. Blair pushed it to her encouragingly.

"I am so glad you came, S. I am a complete mess," she sighed dramatically.

The blonde glanced over to the chess game the brunette seemed to have been playing by herself. "I can see that," she looked away briefly. "Things still that bad with Chuck?"

The brunette grumbled. "Yes," she nodded, her eyes widening as she focused her gaze on the wrinkled silver wrapper of the chocolate. "He _uninvited_ me to his club opening. Can you _believe_ that? After all I've helped him through?! He would just—" she sighed, "well, _whatever_. If he wants to make _this_ big of a deal over one stupid _guy-on-guy kiss_…_fine by me_!"

Serena's facial expression dropped in shock once the facts hit her. "Really? That's kind of….harsh," she sympathized.

"Tell me about it," she nodded. "I mean, we've been _so_ fake since he supposedly 'forgave' me. If I didn't know any better I'd think I was dating _Nate_ instead!"

Her jaw dropped, eyes darting to those burning browns. "Blair—"

"Okay, not exactly," she amended, "but that's how it was a lot of the time with him, S." Her expression turned sincere. "When I really take the time to stop and think about it, I could never really be all of my entire self with him…for fear of what he'd think, and I can do that with Chuck. But lately…I just…I haven't." She sighed. "It's like walking on eggshells."

The blonde reached over and stroked her friend's long brown strands, tucking a few behind her ear. "I'm sorry, B."

She shook her head. "No, it's my fault." She nodded softly. "But today, when I asked him why we were still together if he couldn't trust me…"

Serena gulped, fearing the answer.

"…he couldn't answer," she whispered.

"Oh, B, I'm sure it was just in the heat of the moment," she offered, enveloping her in a tight hug on instant. She felt Blair nod against her and suck in her breath for fear of crying. It completely broke her. "I know this isn't the greatest time to tell you this, or really what you would ever want to hear, but…the deal's falling through."

"What?" Blair asked, pulling away from the hug—her eyebrows furrowing.

Serena sighed. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to pull together those publishers or producers or whoever in time for Chuck's opening tonight."

Her eyes widened. "What's he gonna do?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Apparently though they're not fond of his record…or the fact that he just turned eighteen."

Blair stood to her feet, enraged. "We have to do something!" she insisted.

Serena joined her, gripping her best friend's lower arms. "Think about this, B. He doesn't want you involved, and your relationship has been pretty rocky for the last week or so…"

"Well then what do you suggest?!" her eyes widened further in exasperation. "And besides," her face calmed, "this is _bigger_ than my problems with Chuck. This is about his _future_."

_That may or may __**not**__ involve me…_

Serena looked to her sympathetically, seeing her love for her step-brother shine through magnificently from her deep brown eyes. "I…"

"I'll think of something," she insisted.

Serena looked to her very unsuredly. "I don't know if that's such a—"

"Don't worry, S, I've got this," she smirked, picking up her cell phone and thumbing through the contacts. The blonde knew better than to get involved with her best friend's manipulations and scheming, even if the last one did not end so promisingly. She sighed and headed for the door. It seemed Blair had suddenly become _very_ occupied.

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A/N: Okay…I don't know how well I ended this or if my pronouns fit properly amongst the talking…*shakes head at self's need for perfection* but this is chapter 1! I hope you liked it, please review! =D Hopefully I can update twice tomorrow, if not I'll post chapter 2 and then chapter 3 on Sunday. *is determined* Btw, I'm sure Chuck isn't as mean or whatever as I portray him to be…like I said on my pre-3x06 fic, I'm just trying to make it really bad to make me feel better when it works out in the end. Lol. Btw, how OFF was I with that last fic? Clearly kissing a guy is not an issue for Chuck…*rolls eyes at self* and an apology? Not enough. *grumbles* *clearly doesn't understand him at all* Well whatever, hope you liked this! Review! =D


	2. Heart of the Matter

A/N: Yaaaaaaay, I'm updating!! *claps* Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!! Lolol. I know you're psyched. XD Thanks so much for the story alerts, favoriting and especially the reviews!! You make my life, seriously. Onward! ;p

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**Ch.2—Heart of the Matter **

He sighed. _Perhaps he shouldn't have had so much confidence._

The hotel had seemed like a brilliant idea—at the time. Blair's repeat _'I believe in you' _speech the day prior had been the only ammunition he needed to follow through with his plans.

Scoff.

_Blair_.

Perhaps he should blame it on her. It would certainly be easier than placing himself in that guilty situation again.

But _no_, this was _his_ fault. As pissed as he was at Blair, he couldn't blame his inevitable failure on _her_. He should have known that call from Serena could've been anything but good news. And so close to his supposed opening too…

Sigh.

_Now what was he going to do? _He could still open it and hope for the best. That's what he had done for Victrola and that had gone pretty well. But…

The sound of soft chatter distracted him and he smiled, nodding at the few stragglers wandering into his club. There were drinks and food and entertainment. _But twenty people at most? That was anything but a successful opening night._ He would've been better hashing out his argument with Blair, though it wasn't like that would've fixed itself—even ten days later, fake demeanor dissolved.

He had been fooling himself to think Blair would take seriously his need for her to trust him, for her not to lie, and for her to see past the act she had coerced him into doing. Obviously kissing a guy was not that big of a deal, hardly anything in fact. It was the fact that she manipulated, that she took their game and used it against him. He couldn't believe he had fallen in so obliviously to her schemes.

He just never thought…

Sigh.

"Great party," a woman commented, taking a sip of her martini and smiling at him. He nodded, forcing a smile.

"Thanks," he said, turning away from her and striding across the room. Even if he had it in him to cheat on Blair, which he never would (he was so unquestionably in love with her, whether they were fighting or not), he certainly wouldn't do it with that wanna-be tramp. _Wasn't anyone analyzing who did and didn't come through those polished wooden doors? _Not that he entirely cared. He just wanted people there, _period_.

Two hours and counting of the official opening and there were…twenty people.

He shook his head.

Some more talking, a few clanking of heels and men who tipped their hats to him as they passed through the doors. Great. _Twenty-__**FOUR**__ people_. He grumbled. More silence. Half an hour later and still more silence. He paced the hallway outside the room, unable to be his normally '_cheery'_ self with potential return guests in the room. There was more talking he had to admit. At least these people didn't mind that there were less than thirty people in the room able to fit up to five hundred.

Sigh.

A figured passed him, and he nodded his thanks to the additional customer. Then again, and again, and again! His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to the individuals—and soon crowds—making their way into the room. Suddenly the music grew louder. He heard the bartender call for some assistance and the strobe lights finally were put into action spinning across the room.

Chuck turned his front gaze to the barely opened front door of the hotel and found that the wider he opened the door, the faster people entered the building seeming to be in desperate need as to the location of the club. His eyes widened and he directed them towards it, reveling in the fact that so many people were intrigued by his recently assumed failure.

He walked outside the building, noticing more excitedly how nearly every person that happened to be walking down the block turned and entered his hotel, looking for his club. He stepped to the side readily to let them in. Their eyes glowed as they smiled and nodded to him.

"Great idea, Sir."

"I can even bring my kids to this in a couple hours!"

"I really admire your enthusiasm in bringing the public in for the holidays."

"This is far better than some lame costume party."

And the compliments kept on coming. He almost had to avoid his gaze when a group of giggly teens scrambled in past him. Chuck shook his head, completely flabbergasted as to how this had suddenly happened. That was when he saw it.

A man, clearly on the border of drunkenness, pointed to something behind him and Chuck turned to look, losing his focus on the current amazement of guests flooding in. He gaped at the sign propped on the sidewalk. It showed a picture of a burlesque dancer—her face was hidden. It was almost provocative, but still had an element of class to it—as did its advertising words beneath and above the colored image—darkened in the face. He looked up from it and noticed how the propped sign was duplicated and centered on the sidewalk of several blocks straight ahead. He turned his head in the opposite direction and found the same result. His hand found the back of head and scratched at his neck almost awkwardly. Who could have done this? And why would people bring their kids to this later?

His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and once a break in the massive line appeared he found his way back indoors and inside the giant club room. There were _tons_ of people now, and the bartender widened his eyes in an almost panic. Immediately Chuck called the front desk, ordering several more employees in the club room to assist. In less than five minutes the chaos had calmed down a bit, but it was noisy and _people were enjoying themselves_, almost to an unhealthy degree.

And then there she was.

The crowd had grown louder, started shouting, cheering and flat out tossing their heads about in some type of pure ecstasy.

"It's her, it's her!" he heard a man comment to what looked like a friend beside him. "It's the girl that I was telling you about—from Victrola."

The man beside him gasped. "That's her?! She's hot! Did they say why she never came back?"

The first man shook his head, still in amazement of the girl on stage. "No, I think she must have been in high school or something."

"Seriously?!" the second man spat out a mouthful of his alcohol.

The first man laughed. "Yeah, I mean—"

Chuck tuned out the rest of their conversation and moved slowly closer to the stage, his eyes pinned to her. From the way her hair fell down her back, to the silky barely there slip clinging to her figure. And her eyes—those eyes—he'd never forget them, not even when in a rage to her unthinkable actions.

"Hey boys," she spoke seductively, leaning over to the men hanging on her every movement just barely inches from the stage.

He shook his head. _This was unbelievable_. _She_ was unbelievable. _Chaos_. Absolute chaos in his head.

The butterflies erupted in his stomach and he could feel his heart beating wildly against him. He gulped, unable to take his eyes away from her. She looked even more stunning than that first night he had seen her like this. She was breathtaking when she let herself loose; when she unleashed the side of herself she had hardly known about until he came along.

"Blair," he mouthed in a barely whisper.

And then more dancers erupted from the darkened space near the back of the stage. They followed her movements and made the crowds go wild, helplessly gathering their own existences closer to where she was.

He shook his head. _Unbelievable_.

……………………………………………………………………………

Two dances later, and she was already preparing to leave.

Chuck's eyes widened at the sight of her stepping down off the stage and wandering through the crowd. The men were practically drooling but he saw their upset facial expressions at the realization that she was heading for the exit.

"Hey!"

"Wait!"

"Come back!!"

"More!"

"Sorry boys," she turned back to them and winked, continuing to walk further away without looking back. For the moment they focused back on the other dancers, though the enthusiasm was certainly not as…_enthusiastic_. Then she spotted Chuck standing in front of the exit and sighed on approaching him. "Get out of the way, Chuck."

He shook his head incredulously at her. "I can't believe you."

She bit her bottom lip in mock-apology. "Oh, I'm sorry, Chuck. I know you didn't want me to come, but I seem to recall a couple occurrences when I told _you_ not to come and you certainly didn't listen." She looked knowingly at him in arrogance.

_"I'll see you at your party tonight."_

_"You're officially __**uninvited**__."_

_"Never stopped me before!"_

He scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"Mmm," she pondered, tapping a finger to her chin in thought before focusing back on him. "Heard that one before too." She rolled her before walking around him and heading towards the door.

"How'd you get in? I told them specifically not to let you in if you should try to come." His voice was demanding and she smiled at the hint of panic in his words.

She turned back around and took a couple steps toward him. "Blair Waldorf does not give up," she whispered, and if he didn't hear her he certainly read her lips well enough. She was repeating his words. "I found the side entrance," she shrugged. "Besides, I brought _burlesque_ dancers with me, Chuck, and quite a few of them did not mind in the least when I sent them off with the guard instead of backstage."

He scoffed, forcing the amazement encircling his mind to burst through to the surface.

"But where are your dancers?" she glanced around. "I thought you were getting 'entertainment'."

He was still gaping.

"Oh wait, I did see them. They just looked like complete trash." She beamed.

"Blair—"

"What?!" she snapped, taking another step towards him.

His mouth smacked shut, and he knew what was happening. She was unraveling.

"If you're not going to forgive me," she crossed her arms across her chest. "Then—"

"I said I _forgave_ you," his teeth ground against each other.

"It's not called forgiveness if you can't give me another chance and at least _try_ to trust me again!"

His lips pursed tightly.

"So," she shrugged carelessly, "if you're not going to forgive me, I don't see how a little strip act is going to mess with your little…" her fingers flitted in front of her in way of a gesture, "…grudge."

He sighed, frustrated. "I'm not—"

She closed her eyes briefly, holding up a hand for him to stop. "Please, I don't need your pity, or your _'different term'_. It's all the same. And though your guests," she said, pointing to the crowd before them, "seem to have quite enjoyed my presence, and…what is that?" she put a hand to her ear, leaning in their general direction. "Oh, It seems they've quieted down," she chuckled a bit, covering her parted lips over with a few delicate fingertips. "Point being, though you don't need me _they_ seem to _want_ me. Good luck with your…" her expression turned into disgust as she spotted a few of the girls he had brought in, "…entertainment."

She turned on her feet, smiling no more than a step away as the feel of his hand gripped around her shook her, and with no unease at all she spun back towards him, having expected no less.

"Don't go," he pleaded. It was the first time in over a week he seemed to really, genuinely want her around.

"Why?" her voice was stern. She was sick of this _fake new trust_. She had apologized, had tried to do everything and anything right to fix things, but it wasn't enough. Suddenly she snapped her arm out of its encasement, hardly an original plan of hers. "You don't even know why we're together anymore."

His face fell to her statement, though it wasn't exactly like he could question where she had gotten it from. "Blair, I didn't mean—"

"Oh, you didn't mean it? Sounds an awful lot like Cotillion, doesn't it?"

His eyes widened in panic.

She turned to face him completely and took one step closer, waiting for him to defend himself even with the accusation of what she had done.

Nothing.

She shook her head in despair, though it was hardly what came across. "You said you didn't _need_ me and you didn't _want_ me."

"Not _you_," he insisted, closing up the final standing distance between them and forcing her to let his hands encase hers again. "I just," he sighed, "I didn't want you here tonight. But not you _together_. I want you in my life," he almost gasped at the thought of her _not_ in his life.

Her gaze drifted to the ground, avoiding the sight of their hands. Her arms grown so limp in his soft hold, but then her eyes flashed to his and she snapped at him, recalling his previous defense that morning. "Are you going to accuse me of not trusting or respecting you again?!" she pulled her hands away, "Because when Serena told me your deal was falling through and that she didn't know what to do, well…let's just say I sure as hell didn't come here for my _own_ benefit." Her eyes narrowed and she took a small step away from him. "The only reason you want me here now is because I drew attention to your club, isn't it?"

He searched her eyes for some way out but honestly couldn't find one. The truth was staring him in the face and he didn't know how to fix it, because she was right. She had done everything she possibly could in saving them, but…apparently it wasn't enough.

She shook her head, and sighed, really hating that she had brought the truth so bluntly to the surface. "I love you…and you love me, but," she gulped, "It's not enough, is it?"

His eyes widened again, feeling that statement was awfully close to ones he had heard when something wonderful was about to end. Some sort of romantic relationship, whether it be dating, marriage or whatever else.

"Blair," he began, his voice breaking. He had been so strong, so harsh to her, but this was going too far. This was out of hand. _She wasn't ending this, them_. _He wouldn't let her_. He should have acted and forgiven, or at least offered up a hint of what he wanted her to do—to prove herself. But maybe she should have known, since she knew him so well. Maybe…

"What?"

_"This thing between us, it's over. For good."_

She sighed frustratingly and shook her head, desperate to get out of there, to be free of this anxiety. "Goodbye, Chuck."

He gulped.

"Good luck with your club opening…the rest of the night," she looked at him sincerely, holding back tears, and turning her gaze to brief glances around the room, "It looks incredible."

A forced small smile.

A desire to touch him, if only a pat or squeeze on the shoulder…but too much fear of how it would haunt and consume her.

Scoff.

_Happy Halloween._

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A/N: Ha, aww…I made them both really mean!! I…I'm sorry. *hopes you will all still review lol XD* It's only a 3-part though, so the next chapter _will_ end happily, if that's any incentive. Tell me what you thought! ;D

*******Oh! And just so you know…in the reviews, *sigh* just please don't assume I think CB are over. Lol. A lot of you did that in my last POST 3X05/SPOILER 3X06 3-part fic, and I _don't_ by any means. I know CB are going to end well, especially by the end of this next episode…I'm just trying to get through the week of depressing memories from spoilers/prior episode(s) in between. So don't worry and don't try to convince me to _"believe in them"_, because I already totally do. I'm just way sensitive to even the little fights. Lol. ;p


	3. Send Me Spinning

A/N: Yaaaaay, I'm updating so soon!!!! Lol XD Okay, *deep sigh* I honestly don't know if this fic is as good as my last one. I mean, I was _really_ proud of that post 3x05 fic, but this…*sigh* ? Well, idk, but I hope y'all still review! Oh, and _please_ review the 2nd chapter even if you read these all at once. I know _so_ many people who just review the end chapter if they read the whole story at once, and I certainly wouldn't ask you to review _all_ the chapters if it was like _THIRTY_ chapters long…lol. But there are only 3 chapters, and I'd really love to know what you think. =) So, please…review?

Here we go! Lol

(Oh, I own nothing. Heh. Incase you were fearing for the lives of Chuck and Blair…XD)

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**Ch.3—Send Me Spinning**

_His sluts—err, entertainment were __**not**__ trashy._

He had taken _special_ care in picking them out, even if he only went to one place and blindly pointed his finger in random directions.

They were _not_ over.

Gulp.

_Why then did she have to say 'good-bye' instead of 'good-night'? Why had they not sorted this out earlier and not slept in the same bed for over a week?_ Even in faking a happy relationship, he would have thought they could have _slept_ together—in _both_ senses of the word.

Sigh.

Grumble.

Technically speaking they had only had one real argument, well…two counting today. The morning after when she had come to him begging his forgiveness there had been no real fight, just a tragic induced mood and fake forgiveness.

_How could she lie to him?_

_How could she choose him to manipulate, of __**all**__ people? Manipulating was what __**they**__ did to others, not to each other, not unless they were mad for something one of them had done. And they weren't mad, well…now they were. __**He**__ was. Why was it so hard? Why couldn't he just forgive her? He didn't—wouldn't— want to end their relationship __**ever**__, but…she was right. Where __**did**__ they stand if he couldn't trust her? And why __**couldn't**__ he just give her a second chance? She had given him __**so**__ many already. What would that say of him if he couldn't give her even __**one**__?_

_It was like she had cheated on him—__**that's**__ how he was acting. _Though, he supposed he would be avoiding her completely if she had done that. Then it would be over. Then it would be through. At least that would be a sure fire decision, except for when he finally decided to trust her again. Then he'd probably give her another chance. But…with this…it was almost worse. If he couldn't forgive her and move on with their relationship, then how were they going to get through any other problems they were bound to run into?

He hadn't considered problems in the equation of dating Blair Waldorf. He figured they had been through so many just trying to tell each other their _'I love you's_. Surely they wouldn't have anymore.

Well, they _had_. They still _were_. And even though Blair really hadn't done anything to make up for it, before tonight, he figured it wouldn't have mattered if she had, especially since he had claimed his forgiveness of her.

It would be _more_ lack of trust in him if she had even tried to _'prove'_ her trust again. She probably wondered if he even trusted _her_ anymore. On that awful night when she announced to the entire hall practically every awful, snappy thing about herself…she had claimed Chuck to be the person that trusted her the most.

Well, maybe that wasn't even the case anymore.

Sigh.

He didn't know.

But he didn't want to wait to find out. He was ready to give her that second chance. He couldn't bear another moment in this disgusting _'subtle'_ fight. Being fake wasn't _them_. And losing her would _kill him_.

"Hey Chuck!" a bubbly Serena walked up to him, glittering in her revealing silver dress.

"Serena," he nodded. She clearly did not take notice of his gloomy behavior.

"I don't know what you were so worried about. This place looks amazing!" her eyes scanned the room, twinkling in awe at everything she saw. "And there are tons of people here!"

"Yeah, it's a huge success…"

She smiled, still losing herself in the room, the people, the lights. "I can't believe you even asked me. Clearly you've got enough talent just inside yourself," she added cheesily, pushing at his shoulder to inform him of the teasing he obviously didn't seem aware of.

He took a sip from his scotch and leaned back against the bar counter. "Mmm."

Serena's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Chuck, I don't understand. Everything looks so amazing, why wouldn't you—" and then it clicked. "Blair."

He sighed. "Yeah, Sis, how'd you guess?" the sarcasm in his voice was potent and she would have been offended if she wasn't already gaping at the sight before her.

"No, _Blair_," she emphasized, pointing ahead of her. Maybe she had suddenly discovered the source of his bad mood, but she had also discovered the entertainment for the evening and never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would be Blair Waldorf.

Chuck lifted his head in frustration, but his eyes widened and he moved to see what was happening onstage. The cheering had gotten louder, more focused, and he could almost hear the drooling of the men up in front. _She had left. She had left_, he kept telling himself. She had told him good-bye and he was fearing for their official break up. But...she had come back, _why? _

He strode over to a less than half-drunk man and questioned him about her return. Luckily the man had questioned one of the security guards earlier, who had informed him that 'Miss Waldorf' was just going on a break. Chuck gaped at the man and then returned to his place at the bar. _She had come back._ _She had known he would still need her, regardless of their circumstances._ _Maybe she hadn't even planned on truly leaving to begin with._

Serena nearly gagged at the sight of Blair on stage, covering her mouth in disgust. She figured this was what her best friend might look like behind closed doors with Chuck, but…_in public?_

"Oh my god, Chuck!" She forced him to turn to her, hardly having been aware of his sudden departure less than five minutes earlier, and then his return.

"What?!" he asked, angrily, and she almost excused the action all together.

"You're gonna let her do this?" she asked aghast, "She _is_ your girlfriend even if you _are_ fighting, and those guys are practically hanging all over her!"

He scoffed in humor and shook his head, focusing his attention back on Blair. "It's harmless."

She gaped.

"Besides, we all know who she's going home with."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once more. "Uh, Chuck," she laughed briefly—unsurely, "Did I make up the fight between you two? I mean, she _did_ manipulate you for some speech a little over a week ago, right?"

His eyes narrowed and he finally turned to her. "Yes, she did. _Thanks_ for the reminder." He turned behind him and demanded another scotch. Serena gulped and slid onto the bar stool beside him.

"Look, I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it. It would have been _shameful_ of me to forget," he spat, aiming his words towards the drink in front of him.

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "She's _really_ sorry, Chuck."

He remained motionless.

"You know she would do anything for you…"

His eyes snapped to hers. "Just like I'd do anything for her?" his voice rose.

Her lips pursed. "Chuck…"

He scoffed again, directing his gaze back towards his drink. "Forget it." He spun around and watched her again. All he could see was her. In the haze of shouting and drinks and blurred promiscuity, all he could see was her. The graceful movements of her hair gliding down her back and over her shoulders, how her eyes danced into the colored lights and towards every individual in the room, and…those ruby lips just begging to be devoured. He wasn't even going to start thinking about the movements of her body. He was turned on enough when she just walked across the room or down the street, but…_this?_

_Hellfire._

"Chuck—" Serena's voice entered his thoughts, sounding almost offended that he had interrupted her. Though she figured his situation granted that and so allowed whatever torturous snag came from his lips.

"It's even better the second—_third_ time around," he smirked, briefly turning to the blonde, a lighthearted air spreading from within.

She decided it was best to not act as if too confused or that might direct him back to the problem, which by all means needed to get solved, had been unsolved for too long…but maybe needed a break.

"Hmm?" she asked, hoping that sounded neutral.

His eyes zoned on the brunette strutting around stage. "When I first saw this side of her…"

She stared, trying to put the pieces together, and if by some hidden code he concluded her need for understanding.

"The night Blair and Nate broke up for real, before Cotillion—" and there wasn't even any spite in his voice regarding what had happened the night of Cotillion and afterwards, "—she came to Victrola, for the opening night, and I basically dared her to go up on stage and dance, and _strip_." His eyes darkened lustfully.

Serena shook her head, turning to look on at her best friend, hoping she wouldn't find herself permanently damaged from the visual afterwards. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen Blair in her undergarments before, and she wasn't _shedding_ her slip per say. She tried to deem it '_harmless'_, as Chuck had said. Though, what he was saying…about junior year, completely made sense. He _would_ be one to dare her to do something like that. She rolled her eyes. "And then…afterwards…" she prompted, though deep inside herself she knew the answer to the question and came to the immediate regret of opening her mouth with those words.

"I took her virginity," he stated smarmily.

She cringed. Blair had given her a summary before, but it had always been such a _'disgusting mistake'_, so she didn't go into detail—not that Serena would have wanted it. But by the time the brunette had fallen in love with said bad boy…it didn't really need to be talked about, was never brought up rather. Not on purpose, it just wasn't.

"Well," she nearly shrieked, her voice rising for a moment.

Chuck's smirk grew. "God, she's beautiful," he breathed, leaning forward, and placing his drink on the counter behind him.

Serena nodded, recovering, and enjoying how genuinely sentimental he was being.

"Especially like this," his eyes glistened.

She cleared her throat and turned away. "Well…" her voice awkward-sounding now, sending Chuck's smirk even farther across his face.

"What is it, Sis? Something bothering you?" he raised an eyebrow and she tried her very best to ignore it, laughing shortly.

"Not entirely."

He was still smiling.

"I'm just gonna go change," she smiled, and he frowned.

_Change?_

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and her tender smile parted her lips. It was so very thrilling to know something he didn't.

"Didn't she tell you?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Tell me what?"

Serena beamed. "It must be a surprise then. I'll be back!" she called out, walking off in her shimmering glamour. He was stock still silent, and completely lost at this new intake of information.

"Serena—" He put a hand to his forehead, trying to rid himself of the sudden headache residing there. "What are you—"

"Changing!" she chirped, giggling when she was inches from the door. A mere glance back at his terribly perplexed face sent her into another stifled fit of laughter.

"But—"

"Oh, _don't worry_; I know I'm basically in costume. Just a few touch ups!" she squealed.

And then?

…gone.

He was still confused.

_Costume?_

* * *

She had come down awhile ago and he was still in shock from everybody's sudden shift from party clothes of modern day to those of the _1920's_. It was then that he noticed on the back of all those propped signs on the street was an invitation to a 1920's costume party…following a good two hours of burlesque dancing.

He shook his head in disbelief. He _couldn't believe_ Blair had gone through all this trouble just to save his opening night. If he didn't trust her now, he would be a complete idiot. No one _else's_ girlfriend would go this all out for some club her boyfriend owned, especially while still _fighting_ with said boyfriend.

"Blair," he approached her, _finally_. She had been mingling amongst the guests for almost an hour while he watched her, mesmerized. Meanwhile, Serena had sat back taking in her two friends. It was ridiculous how they would avoid each other and yet stare the other down while in the midst of some absurd fight. Of course this time the fight wasn't so absurd, but Blair had really proved herself tonight, and Serena could tell by the look in her brother's eyes…he was _more than ready_ to forgive her, for _real_ this time.

The love, lust, and admiration heating up his eyes was undeniable.

"Chuck," she said, her voice casual and aloof. She looked about the room, smiling and waving to several of the men who she had held the rapt attention of throughout the evening.

"Thank-you," he choked out. He could hardly express, let alone ask, his gratitude about her return.

She turned her eyes to him and softened. "Of course, Chuck. We're _friends_. That's what friends do for each other." The smile implanted on her face was fake and guarded. It caused his eyebrows to narrow.

_Screw awe and admiration._

He pulled her to the side of the room, blinding his eyes to the disappointed looks of the men she was leaving behind.

"_Friends_, Blair?" he spat.

She focused her gaze on his frustrated face. "Yes, _Chuck_, _**friends**_." Now _her_ eyebrows narrowed.

"Uh-oh," Serena's face fell as she backed away behind the bar. She didn't want to get in the middle of a _Chuck-Blair argument_, but she couldn't help needing to see how it would turn out. If it ended in a teary-eyed Blair, she would have to go after her _for comfort's sake_. If it ended in a slapped, furious Chuck, she would have to make sure to not contact him for the next couple days, and to leave _immediately_.

"We're _more_ than friends," he insisted, his voice low. "Or have you forgotten?"

She twitched, annoyed, and scowled at him. "You seem to have!"

He huffed, shaking his head. "I was just thanking you for—"

"Saving your egotistical ass? You're _welcome_," she spat.

His eyes narrowed. "Well, I was going to—"

"Decide to trust me? Save it. I've spent enough time around your despicable existence tonight," she rolled her eyes and made to storm away.

Serena gaped. _Was Blair __**drunk**__?_

Chuck spun in anger and grabbed hold of his feisty girlfriend's arm, pulling her flush up against him. "Don't you leave me," he demanded in a harsh whisper.

The closeness consumed her, and the need for her she felt in his words completely broke her. She was so tired of her apology not being enough, and she had done so much for him tonight. But she didn't want to wait for him to forgive her. She was going to do her duty and storm off and wait for _him_ to come to _her_…maybe in a few days.

It seemed though, he couldn't wait.

She broke against him and choked out a few sobs. He dropped her arms and she pushed herself away from him. He waited. She had a few options in deciding what to do next, and in those five seconds of anguish she considered each one carefully. She could spit some more hateful words back in his face and force her way out, _angrily_. She could tell him his final acceptance of trust was not enough, just like her apology had not been enough for _him_, and cry as she ran from the building (with Serena following after her, no doubt). Or she could…

…wrap her arms around his neck and poor out her apology again. She could say how much she wanted to make it up to him, how she just wanted them to be okay again, how the last week of their fake surface happiness had killed her. She could grip his shirt and beg for his forgiveness again and again because living without him would be just as much torture, if not more, than his idea of living without her. Because this fighting was driving her crazy and it reminded her of the horrific experiences of the year before. Because trust is _very_, if not _the_ most important thing in a relationship, and she shouldn't have even _thought_ to do what she did without involving him as more than a victim. He should have been a comrade—a fellow schemer—that's what he should have been.

That she really needs that second chance, and not because she's given him so many, but because if he doesn't trust her then she can't trust herself. That regardless of Serena's endless loyalty to her, without him she's nothing. That so many of her accomplishments and self-worth have come from him and that every second away from him and every moment of unforgiveness completely slaughters every ounce of her being.

But most of all that she loves him, and she's going to keep loving him—_forever_—and that if that plus an apology and an attempt at the very dire need for a second chance isn't enough…then she's going to descend into madness.

And after this epic speech she would pull her face away from the warm cradle of his neck, and she would kiss him long and hard and passionate…and Serena would be disgusted and in awe at the same exact time.

And when they parted Chuck would forgive her, and he would _really mean it_ this time, and they would kiss again, and they would keep on kissing, and he would hold her to him, his grip squeezing gently around her waist and her arms still tightly wrapped around his neck, fingers lost in his hair. And they would laugh and cry in between their kisses. Their hearts would beat wildly against the surface of their chests. Their butterflies would multiply and climb out of their throats and float throughout the room. And he would take her in his arms--bridal style--and spin her around and people would think they were either drunk or newlyweds, and the guys who fawned over her would grow green with envy, but the two lovers wouldn't see them. They would only see each other's eyes and hair and lips and souls.

And everything would be just fine.

_Quite honestly, it seemed like the best option._

Serena bit her lip softly as she watched the scene unfold before her, her eyes tearing up as she watched the ten-day-old fight finally come to a close. The couple almost looked happier than they had been all summer, or _ever_, and she didn't even think that was _possible_.

Her cheeks flushed when their lips smashed against each other and for those long 45 seconds…or maybe minute and a half, she gave them their intimate privacy and looked away.

But she giggled when he spun her around and the deepest, most beautiful warm fuzzy feeling overwhelmed her when she witnessed their soft, tender kisses and how they stroked each other's hair and cupped each other's faces.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," he nodded, his forehead pinned to her own.

"You forgive me?"

"I forgive you."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it."

"You really trust me? You're really giving me a second chance?"

"Yes. I do and I am."

"Why?" she suddenly teared up again, her reasons and actions to win him back vanishing from her mind. His lips parted.

"Because I love you, Blair Waldorf, and we are _so much more_ than _friends_."

Giggle.

Kiss.

Spin.

Smile.

Serena sighed.

_God, they're beautiful._

* * *

_**FIN.**_

* * *

A/N: *sighs contently* I think I'm in love with it. Lol. Please review! =D I will forever love you. ;) Though, not as much as Chuck I'm sure…hehehe.

(I'll try to update _SSS_ tomorrow!! No guarantees though…)


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